


Pushing buttons, turning hands

by skullage



Category: Block B
Genre: Anal Sex, Come play, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rimming, Voyeurism, filching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10292924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: what happened after the "yesterday" dance prac vid, probably





	

**Author's Note:**

> bcos strifelines is [awful and the worst and a life ruiner](https://twitter.com/hoesuccs/status/836284723609624576)

He tries not to notice what Minhyuk’s wearing and how much of a turn on it is for him. Minhyuk dances so effortlessly and Jiho makes himself focus on what he’s doing himself instead of looking at Minhyuk, instead of gazing slack jawed at the outline of Minhyuk’s cock through his sweats. He manages to get through practice without rushing off to jack it in the bathroom like he wants to, but it’s only through sheer force of will. 

By the end of the fifth run through they finally get the practice video right and Jiho’s never been more glad of anything in his life. The rest of them look energized from the exericise, especially Yukwon and Minhyuk who are naturals. Jiho tries to keep his eyes up at face level, but it’s getting harder the longer this drags on. 

“Pizza?” he asks, and Jihoon nods. “Beef?” Taeil gives him a thumbs up. “Okay, everyone back to the dorm, my treat.”

Kyung cheers, the first to exit, and the others follow. Except for Minhyuk, who Jiho pulls aside with a hand bunched in his hoodie. Minhyuk doesn’t look puzzled at being pulled aside; he smirks like he knows what Jiho’s thinking, and it annoys him, wars with his mounting sexual frustration. 

He can barely wait until the door snicks shut before he’s pushing Minhyuk against the wall and shoving a hand down his pants. 

“You’re such a shit,” Jiho says, finding Minhyuk’s dick easily, wrapping a hand around it, feeling the warmth and heft of it.

Minhyuk laughs like this is what he wants, and knowing him it probably is. He probably picked those sweats deliberately, chose not to wear underwear so his dick bounced around as he danced, all to get this reaction: Jiho panting into his neck as he rubs his crotch against Minhyuk’s thigh. 

“Easy,” Minhyuk says, “go easy, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Shut up,” Jiho says, which just makes Minhyuk laugh again. He tugs Minhyuk’s cock out of his sweats, feeling the weight of it in his hands; it’s fat and heavy and silky, already half-hard in Jiho’s hand. As it gets harder it darkens in color, the veins sticking out, the head peeking out of Jiho’s fist as he pumps, and Jiho brings his hand up to spit into it before he wraps it around Minhyuk’s cock again. 

“Is this what you wanted? I saw you looking.” Minhyuk’s leaning back against the wall like this is amusing, like Jiho’s not about to come in his pants any second. Maybe that’s what’s amusing, Jiho strung out and losing himself to the thought of getting Minhyuk’s thick cock inside him. Minhyuk’s hands encircle him, pushing up under his shirt, beneath the waistband of his pants, slipping lower to grab his ass and pull him closer. This is what he gets off on, Jiho knows: other people wanting him. And Jiho can’t help it, he wants him. “Come on, tell me. You couldn’t keep your eyes off my dick.”

“Yeah,” Jiho said, already almost beyond words. “You kept ruining my concentration.”

“So you thought about it, then. My cock, how you wanted to get your hands on it.”

Jiho feels his face flame and buries it in Minhyuk’s shoulder. “You can’t talk, you’ve been trying to suck Jaehyo off for days. You’re really blind if you think he’s going to give in to you. He just likes the flattery. All of the chase, none of the game.”

“Hmm,” Minhyuk says, watching Jiho stripe his cock, “I don’t need him when I’ve got you. Look at you. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Fuck,” Jiho says. “I want it.”

“Yeah? How do you want it?”

“I want it in my mouth,” Jiho says, muffled into Minhyuk’s neck. He makes a noise at the touch of Minhyuk’s fingers between his cheeks. “I want you to fuck me with it, I want you to hold me down and fuck me like I know you want to.”

“That’s right,” Minhyuk says, and he takes his hands away from where they’re circling Jiho’s hole and pushes him down to his knees. He’s barely even pressing on Jiho’s shoulder but Jiho goes willingly. As soon as he’s eye level with Minhyuk’s dick he sucks him down, moaning at the taste of him, at the tang of his sweat and pre-come and the smell of his skin, sour from dance practice. He loves it, loves everything about it, swallows him until he’s almost choking himself, his nose buried in Minhyuk’s pubic hair. He’s a good size -- not as long as Jihoon or Yukwon but thick enough to make Jiho keep coming back again and again, stretching his lips over the girth of him. The way he tastes leaks onto Jiho’s waiting tongue makes Jiho slowly lose his mind in the fog of lust surrounding it. Minhyuk laughs, stroking his fingers over the bulge in Jiho’s cheek. “You really are shameless. How often do you think about this, huh? Do you touch yourself?”

Jiho feels pressure in his stomach, his dick growing harder at the words.

Minhyuk continues, his voice low, “Do you think about me?”

Jiho whines, an urgency to the noise that belies how worked up he is.

“How often do you finger yourself thinking about me?” 

Jiho can’t do much more than moan and suck and try to coax a noise from him, but, as usual, Minhyuk keeps his poker face on, staring coolly down at Jiho and breathing steadily while Jiho feels like he’s run a mile. It’s not long before Minhyuk starts moving his hips, and Jiho encourages him by pulling him forward with his hands until Minhyuk starts fucking his mouth, getting as deep as he can just to pull back out, keeping Jiho’s head in place. He’s so hard in Jiho’s mouth, a constant through which Jiho can keep his sanity intact while losing the rest of himself to this. He hits the ridge of Jiho’s hard palate with each push, filling up his mouth, making him gag, making him whine for more.

He pulls back to jack Minhyuk’s dick with his hand and suckle at the head, smears Minhyuk’s precome over his lips by rubbing his cockhead against them. Finally, Minhyuk cracks, lets out a soft groan. 

“You’re too good at that. Really, fuck.” He runs his hands through Jiho’s hair and Jiho preens, keeps licking and sucking for a few more minutes until his frustration wins out and he has to pull off, though Minhyuk seems content to keep Jiho where he is.

“Hyung,” Jiho says, and Minhyuk makes a soft noise. “Please.” It would be embarrassing if Jiho possessed an ounce of shame. “Do you wanna fuck me? You can. I want you to, it’ll be so good, I’ll be so good for you.”

Minhyuk _hmm_ s like he’s considering it. Jiho knows it’s just to torture him, but it has the desired effect, Jiho leaning his forehead against his hip and groaning out of frustration. “How good?”

Jiho snaps his head back to look up at him. “I’ll do anything you want, please, hyung. I’m so tight, you know that. I feel so good.”

“You _do_ feel good,” Minhyuk admits, still pretending to consider it. “That’s why you’re my main fuck.”

“And because no one else wants to fuck you,” Jiho can’t help but say. 

Minhyuk scowls and pulls him up, kissing him, pushing his tongue into Jiho’s mouth, grabbing his ass, as if that’s supposed to be a punishment. “Get on your hands and knees,” Minhyuk says, and Jiho drops. He resists the urge to rub up against his legs like cat, but only just. “Crawl over to my bag.” Minhyuk nods towards the other side of the room, and Jiho does, slinking over, taking his time, arching his back, trying to put on a show, hoping Minhyuk’s staring at his ass and thinking of good things. He looks over his shoulder halfway there and Minhyuk’s staring, his eyes heavy-lidded and lust-blown.

When he reaches the mirror Minhyuk says, “Sit against the wall,” and comes over, lifting one of Jiho’s legs up to take off his shoe, doing the same with the other one. “Strip,” Minhyuk says, even though he’s helping, pulling off his shoes and socks while Jiho shrugs off his jacket and whips his shirt off. Jiho lies on his back and lifts his hips for Minhyuk to pull down his pants, freeing his aching cock so that it slaps against his stomach. Minhyuk’s still got his dick out, which is even more apparent when he lifts his hoodie over his head and tosses it in the pile of Jiho’s clothes. His cock curves towards his body and Jiho misses it, hates looking at it if it’s not immediately about to be in his mouth or hands or ass. He hates waiting. Minhyuk takes his time pulling the lube out of his bag, and Jiho’s frustration mounts with each passing second.

At the touch of Minhyuk’s skin on his as he settles over him, Jiho feels whatever had taken over him before resurface and he surges up to kiss Minhyuk, pulls him down with a hand on the back of his neck, sucking on his tongue, biting his lip. Minhyuk kisses back eagerly. He always does; Jiho loves kissing him, loves the way Minhyuk teases with his tongue, the way he sucks on Jiho’s bottom lip and tilts his head to make it easier for Jiho. Minhyuk’s nothing if not a gentleman. He rubs his dick into the crease of Jiho’s thigh and the friction must be rough but he’s not complaining, he always lets Jiho take it as fast or as slow as he wants. It’s seemingly an abdication of his power, making Jiho feel he’s got control, when they both know Minhyuk’s still in charge. He strokes Jiho’s face, but it’s less endeared and more a display of control.

The feeling of Minhyuk rubbing against him and leaking onto his hip makes Jiho harder without even being touched yet, his dick trapped between their bodies, aching for release already. He uses his feet for leverage and pushes his hips up, shamelessly rutting into Minhyuk’s stomach. Jiho wants Minhyuk back in his mouth again, but more than that he wants Minhyuk’s fucking into him, pushing him open, hitting the spot inside him that makes his eyes roll back in his head. When Minhyuk pulls back to look at him, barely even breathing heavy, Jiho chases his fingers and sucks them into his mouth. Minhyuk’s eyes widen at that, biting his own lip, letting Jiho get his fingers wet, lathe his tongue over the soft pads of his fingertips, lick between the webbing, while he scrapes the nails of his other hand down Jiho’s stomach until he finally touches Jiho’s dick.

Jiho bucks involuntarily into the catch of Minhyuk’s hand, relishing the softness of his palm. His hands are beautiful; Jiho’s spent a lot of time admiring them, the ridges of his knuckles, the broken lines across his palms, the half moons on his cuticles. He continues to suck on Minhyuk’s fingers until he’s satisfied and directs Minhyuk’s hand towards his ass. Minhyuk realises what he’s doing and pulls his hand out of Jiho’s grasp.

“No,” Minhyuk says.

The sound Jiho makes is halfway between a groan and a whine. “But I want it.”

“I told you not to hurt yourself.”

“Hyung, please.”

Minhyuk makes a chastising sound and reaches for the lube. The sound of him uncapping the lid is sharp in the quiet of the room, and it sends a shiver down Jiho’s spine. He watches Minhyuk carefully, anticipating the moment when he touches him with slick fingers, sliding one in. Jiho lets out an exhale that is more a whine than anything else. 

His thumb strokes over the sensitive spot of Jiho’s taint before he pushes another finger in. Once Jiho’s relaxed enough he barely feels the stretch and starts whining for more, rocking his hips back onto Minhyuk’s fingers until he adds a third, until Minhyuk’s frigging him roughly like Jiho wants him to. He finds Jiho’s prostate easily -- he’s had a lot of practice -- and fingers him until Jiho’s squeezing his eyes shut against the pleasure.

“Do you like that?” Minhyuk says, his tone smug. 

“Y-yeah,” Jiho stutters out. “Please, Minhyuk. Hyung. Fuck me, do it.”

The side of Minhyuk’s mouth lifts up in a smirk. Of course he gets off on it, people wanting him so blatantly, but Jiho is happy to give him that if it means Minhyuk will fuck him that much better. He watches Minhyuk slick himself up, feels his cockhead press against Jiho’s hole, smearing lube and pre-come on his skin, and the feeling of him as he breaches the tight ring of muscle is so good it makes Jiho’s neck snap back until his head hits the floor. Minhyuk’s too focused to notice, which is good, because Jiho doesn’t want him to stop. He keeps pushing in, stretching Jiho around his plump cock with how thick his dick is, much thicker than his slender fingers. 

Jiho can’t help but moan as Minhyuk bottoms out. It’s pretty much all he can do: lie back and let Minhyuk start an unrelenting and torturous pace that has him gasping into the air. The stretch on his end feels like he’s being split open, he can only imagine how good it feels for Minhyuk, who makes a noise that sounds like it’s shocked out of him. 

Jiho wraps his legs around Minhyuk’s waist to urge him on, and he takes the hint, thrusting, slowly at first, like always, getting Jiho used to it, slipping almost all the way out just to push back in again. Jiho’s known Minhyuk a long time and he can read his personality well: Minhyuk is good at a lot of things, more things than he lets on, but this is one of the areas he excels in. As well as Jiho can read personalities, Minhyuk can read bodies, and he knows Jiho’s body, knows where to touch him (his ribs, the backs of his knees), knows where to press his lips (his chest, the hollow of his throat), knows where to bite (his earlobe, his fingertips) to make Jiho’s body feel like it’s lit up from the inside. Knows how hard to drive his cock in to make his body feel like a wire pulled taut. 

He slips his hands under the waistband of Minhyuk’s sweats to dig his fingers into his ass, and it’s hot, it always is, when Minhyuk can’t be bothered getting undressed, makes it seem like this is some lazy afternoon pre-nap blowing off steam instead of the heart-pounding frantic fuck it is, the only thing that gets Jiho off anymore. Minhyuk keeps fucking into him, rolling his hips expertly, hitting Jiho’s prostate in a way that’s controlled and excruciating and satiates the desperation Jiho carries under his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby,” Minhyuk says. He leans back, pulls out. Jiho feels the loss immediately, reaches for Minhyuk’s shoulders to pull him back in, but Minhyuk grabs him by the hips and turns him over, manoeuvres him until he’s on his knees, slides back in easily like he never left. 

The stretch is just as good as it was the first time. At this angle Minhyuk can get in deeper, and Jiho waits for him to get a rhythm going that has him sinking to the floor, letting out these punctuated moans each time Minhyuk hits his prostate. 

“Are you good?” Minhyuk asks, not slowing his relentless pace, and Jiho nods, mostly mushing his face into the pillow of his arms. “You look good. Fuck, you’re taking me so well, taking all of this fat cock.”

“Just want -- ah -- to be good for you, hyung,” Jiho says. He’s under no obligation to say any of this shit. There’s no doubt in his mind that Minhyuk would fuck him just as hard and just as often even if Jiho baited him the whole time, but he wants to be kind now, and he wants to be needed. 

“I’m going to come,” Minhyuk says, and Jiho marvels at the dance practice he does that he doesn’t even sound out of breath. “Where do you want it?”

“In me,” Jiho says, “don’t move. Just fill me up.”

Minhyuk lets out a laugh. “Whatever you say.” He keeps fucking Jiho and comes a minute later, with a punched-out groan, spilling inside him, pulling out just to smear it around Jiho’s hole. He pushes back in, thrusting until he’s soft, and all the while Minhyuk is fucking his come further inside Jiho, Jiho’s moaning into his arms, savouring the feeling of Minhyuk’s come sliding out of him and down his taint. Minhyuk kisses down his back, all appreciative “thank you”s, touching him sweetly.

When Minhyuk does pull out, Jiho tries not to collapse onto the floor. Minhyuk kisses down his spine, reaches his tailbone, licks into his hole, and Jiho almost yelps at how over-sensitive he is. 

“This okay?” Minhyuk asks.

“Yeah,” Jiho says, “hyung, yes, do it.”

Minhyuk’s tongue lathes over his entrance a few times before he pushes in, past the circle of muscle, making Jiho feel like his thighs are about to give up holding him. It sends shockwaves of pleasure through his whole body, lighting him up from the inside. Minhyuk doesn’t let him go easy: he’s just as relentless eating Jiho out as he was fucking him, and Jiho has to see him. He looks up and into the mirror and what he sees forces a noise of shock out of him:

Kyung, leaning against the wall by the door, watching them with heavy-lidded eyes, hands shoved in his pockets. As they make eye contact, Kyung’s mouth quirks in a smile that’s more predatory than anything. Jiho shouldn’t really be surprised at Kyung finding him like this: they’ve shared everything else since middle school, it’s only natural that Kyung sees him like this. They’ve been sloppy and careless, but at the least if anyone else knows that Jiho and Minhyuk have been fucking for months they haven’t said anything. Maybe they don’t know, but. Kyung knows now.

As Jiho watches him, Kyung casually lifts a hand out of his pocket and moves it towards his crotch, cups himself, pressing but not doing much else, and Jiho comes like that, squeezing his eyes shut, coming to the feel of Minhyuk inside him and Kyung watching him.

**Author's Note:**

> still on [twitter](http://twitter.com/skvllage), matey potateys


End file.
